


006

by BootsnBlossoms, Jennybel75, Kryptaria



Series: Refraction [5]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Friendship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-21
Updated: 2013-01-21
Packaged: 2017-11-26 09:35:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/649165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BootsnBlossoms/pseuds/BootsnBlossoms, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jennybel75/pseuds/Jennybel75, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kryptaria/pseuds/Kryptaria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are few secrets at MI6 — and the relationship between 007 and his Quartermaster is not one of them. It was only a matter of time before word reached Bond's best friend, Alec Trevelyan, 006.</p>
            </blockquote>





	006

Bond closed his eyes, taking deep, rapid breaths of chlorine-rich air, infusing his body with oxygen. The water drying on his skin felt like ice. Darkness pressed in all around him, and he crouched to feel the edge of the diving board. He made a minute adjustment in his orientation before he rose, breaking from a crouch into a dive, sailing into the stomach-turning darkness, no sense of up or down for one infinite moment. Then gravity caught him in its claws and pulled him down, and he resisted the urge for one last breath as he hit the cold water.

He sank, body knife-straight, plummeting deep into the training pool in the primary basement of the MI6 building. A quarter mile away and two levels down, Q was sabotaging a computer system in support of 004’s mission in Belarus. It was local midnight, but Bond’s body clock was still on California time. He’d finished dinner an hour before, in Q’s office, watching him do incomprehensible things.

The darkness and his body’s natural buoyancy combined to disorient him in the water. Holding his breath, he relaxed, letting his senses report on the subtlest tug of gravity until he could guess that the surface was _there_.

He kicked against the water’s hold. The thinnest layer of water around him had begun to warm, leaching the heat from his skin. Now, it felt like cold hands slipping over him, and he threw himself into moving, unconcerned about direction. The training pool was twenty feet deep, not infinite; eventually he’d hit _something_ — the bottom, the walls, or open air.

Then, something hit _him_ instead on the back of his hand, coiling wetly around his arm to float suspended in the water. Startled, he reached automatically for the diving knife he wasn’t carrying, body instinctively braced against the pain of what was absolutely _not_ a jellyfish stinger, because he was in a bloody pool —

Lights snapped on, and he fought up the last three feet to the surface, catching hold of the heavy twists of the orange safety rope usually coiled against the wall. He dragged in a breath and twisted, treading water, only to find someone crouched by the side of the pool at the other end of the rope.

He was stockier than Bond, his hair a half inch longer, though it was nearly the same shade of pale gold-blonde. His eyes were bright green and full of amusement.

“I can’t leave you alone for two minutes, let alone two months.  Are you really fucking that skinny little Quartermaster, or is the office gossip wrong?” Alec Trevelyan — 006 — asked.

Laughing, Bond struck out for the side of the pool. He caught the edge and boosted himself out with a splash that threatened Alec’s shoes. “Is it my fault you let your prejudices get in the way of half the available people on the planet?” he asked, twisting to sit on the edge. He pushed his hair back, slicking water out of his eyes.

Alec joined in with Bond’s laughter, handing him a towel as he said, “Not all of us can be as legendary a seducer as you, James, but the Quartermaster? Surely you’d snap him in two.”

Bond threw the towel over his head and ruffled it through his hair. “He’s... surprising,” he admitted. He glanced around, but the pool was empty, as it always was at this hour. Bond preferred swimming in the solitary dark. “Not what you’d expect from just hearing his voice on the comms. I had to have a private talk with 0014 when he thought about competing for his attention. You’re safe enough, I suppose. I’ll introduce you.” Bond quickly towelled off his back, giving Alec a quick grin.

“Glad to see you’re so sure you can trust me with your conquest, James.”  Alec’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes as he offered Bond a hand to help him up, and Bond knew he was thinking of Bali, a French painter named Inara, and the only time they’d ever drawn their guns on each other. Bond took Alec’s hand and stood, and Alec’s smile became a bit more genuine. “All right, let’s go and see this Quartermaster of yours.”

 

~~~

 

“You need to stop taking these long-term missions,” Bond complained, shaking a cigarette out of his pack. He offered them to Alec, who was one step ahead of him on the emergency staircase down to the Q Branch tunnels. Alec shook his head.

“And why would I do that? There’s little here in London that I can’t find elsewhere. I start getting cabin fever if I’m back for too long.” Alec cast a sly look over his shoulder. “You could join me, you know. This op really needs two agents. It’d be just like old times.”

Guiltily, Bond said, “I know.” He lit his cigarette, his steps faltering. “I’m spending too much time here. I caught one of the secretaries asking if I wanted to meet her at ‘my’ office. Christ,” he muttered, taking a deep drag of smoke.

Alec stopped in front of Bond, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Then why don’t you? M would jump at the chance to assign you to a long term mission. I certainly wouldn’t say no to backup in Istanbul.”

Bond glanced down the stairwell and nodded thoughtfully. He gave Alec a half-smile and said, “It _would_ be good for the organisation for someone to keep an eye on you. The children hear stories, you know. You’re the source of all sorts of bad habits.”

“And you’re one to talk, 007?” Alec smiled back. “The stories they tell about you could peel paint.” He turned and started back down the stairs, his voice suddenly serious. “Just tell me you’ll think about it, yes?”

“There are days I can’t think of anything else,” Bond admitted with a little inward wince. He’d been manipulating M for shorter missions, but he itched to do _real_ fieldwork. He hadn’t trained just to sit in the cage that was London, no matter how pleasant the captivity. “Are you done in Istanbul, then?” he asked, knowing that his fond memories of that city were faulty — that Istanbul was just as much a reeking, death-riddled hellhole as every other city on the planet, at least through the eyes of a field agent. Still, he felt oddly reminiscent, like he’d been too long denied exotic sounds and sights. That or he just missed the thrill of someone shooting at him.

“Not as such, no.” This time, Bond could hear a tinge of what he could only call relief in Alec’s voice. “Just back to chase down some information here and restock on Q Branch toys. Shall we talk to M about you going back with me?”

Bond hesitated, taking another drag. Q didn’t expect Bond to retire. He never complained when Bond went out on a mission. They were both professionals.

Slowly, Bond grinned at Alec. “Do we have a mission objective, or are we just poking hornets’ nests to see what comes out?”

“Best pack the smoke gun and uniform.” Alec laughed back at him as he took the rest of the stairs two at a time.

Bond burst out laughing. “I am _not_ impersonating a bloody Russian military officer with you ever again. God, if I never have to stand in front of a firing squad —”

“The explosives went off,” Alec protested innocently.

“ _Half_ the bloody explosives went off,” Bond corrected, following Alec down. “But at least _this_ Quartermaster has a thing for explosives that actually work. Remind me to show you what he’s done to our Harley.”

Alec stopped at the bottom of the stairwell and hesitated, hand on the door release. “‘Our’ Harley? Oh, James... The sooner we get you out of here, the better.” And with that he ducked through the door into Q Branch.

Bond hung back, taking one last drag of his cigarette before he pitched it down into the depths of the stairwell. Leave it to fucking Alec to hit on the heart of the matter. If Alec hadn’t been in deep cover in Brazil during the whole Vesper incident, he probably would’ve shot Bond for trying to retire over a girl. _Duty before all_ had been their motto — and that included whoever they were fucking at the time.

Suddenly, he wondered if introducing Alec to Q was a bad idea, but it was too late. Besides, they’d meet eventually. Even a deep-cover agent like Alec had to come home eventually.

Bond headed out of the stairwell to where Alec was waiting for him. In the cubicle farm, about half the tables were occupied by technicians who stared up in surprise at the midnight appearance of two Double O’s.

“I was in California not two days ago, you know,” Bond told Alec, though it was a weak defence. Working with the CIA was usually a stupidly easy job; an information exchange about smuggling rings involving nothing more than midday meetings and executive dinners in Malibu was downright embarrassing as missions went.

Alec smiled at him knowingly. “Our brothers at Langley, James? I’ll assume it was all board rooms, restaurants, and swank hotels. You’re running the risk of getting soft, mate, if you keep up like that. Nothing a bit of proper field work won’t knock out of you.” He turned to look out over the area. “So, which one do I have to kill to get you out of here and back where you belong?”

Bond hit Alec in the arm with one elbow. “M. He may have threatened a psych eval two months back, after the job in Korea.” He looked at Alec, certain the rumours had reached him, even in the field. “I just haven’t pushed is all.”

The look he received from Alec was considering, as if weighing up what he was going to say next. “It happens to all of us at one stage or another. Unfortunately, it’s just part of the job. Things never go to plan, James — you know that. You can’t beat yourself up for doing what you need to in order to get the job done. The greater good is what ultimately matters.”

Bond laughed and headed down into the pit of tables and desks. “You and I know that, but again, the children. M’s got this bollocksed-up idea that we’re to set an example for them. As if we’re not supposed to go off-mission _every_ mission or something. I’m not quite sure how that works,” he said innocently, hiding a grin at the looks of horror darted his way from the rule-abiding techs.

“What better example could the children have than us?” Alec asked in a mock-wondering tone. “They need to know that it doesn’t always go by the book, no matter what M tells them. We’re shining examples of how to deal with things when that happens.” He followed Bond through the rabbit warren of desks, not bothering to hide his smile from the now-scandalised staff.

On the far side, Bond turned up the other staircase. “We _are_ professionals,” he admitted modestly. He slowed his steps, catching Alec’s arm, and lowered his voice as they turned up onto the balcony overlooking the pit of desks. “Look, I know you’ve worked with him in the field. He’s not Boothroyd. He’s got our backs out there, even if it goes against regs.”

Alec looked at Bond’s hand for a moment, then back up into his face. “I know, James, he got you out of that mess with Silva; for that alone I’m grateful to him. And because of that, I’ll be on my best behaviour.” Alec smiled slyly. “Now, introduce me to the man who’s keeping you here, rather than out in the field where you should be.”

 

~~~

 

“No, your other left,” Q said calmly, hiding his irritation.  For being one of the older, more experienced agents, 004 had a bad habit of ignoring practically everything Q said that wasn’t ‘duck and cover; building’s about to explode’.  He watched with some satisfaction as the agent’s red dot did a 180, turning in the opposite direction.

Q heard the door behind him open with a sharp _snick_ , and he catalogued the second set of hands that kept it open as two people passed through it.  He held up his hand in a gesture of ‘shut the fuck up, I’m busy’ without looking back to see who his visitors were.

“You’re going to have to make a dash through the marketplace.  Fortunately, there aren’t too many tall buildings there, and it’s heavily patrolled, so you shouldn’t have to worry about snipers.  Keep to the left, out of line of sight from the apartment complex windows.”

“Thanks for hint,” 004 huffed back breathlessly.  “Going off comm.  I’ll ring when I’m at the mission point.”

Q nodded, pointless gesture as it was.  “I’ll continue my work on the firewall.  Should be down in about ten minutes — plenty of time for you.  Good luck.”  

004 went silent, and Q turned to see who was visiting. Bond, hair still wet from the pool, in neat trousers and a button-down, was standing next to the legendary figure of Alec Trevelyan. The two best friends wore equally dangerous grins, and Q stopped himself from swallowing in a combination of intimidation and awe. Boothroyd had sometimes gone on endlessly about the dynamic duo whose wake of destruction included dozens of women, hundreds of beautiful pieces of tech, and even some small countries.

An intimidating figure of a best friend, Q thought, though he didn’t let himself show it.

“I’m all out of those new microgrenades if that’s what you're here to show off,” Q told Bond with a smile.

“I suppose I’ll have to show you off instead,” Bond said bluntly, walking away from the office entrance. He didn’t even pretend to be shy as he went right to Q, pulled him into a haze of chlorine-scented air, and kissed him, quickly but with feeling. “Do you have a minute?”

Q could feel the tips of his ears start to redden, but he didn’t push Bond away.  The look Trevelyan was giving them was priceless.  “I have to finish this before 004 gets insistent,” Q said, waving at the decryption in process on his laptop.  “It will only take another couple of minutes.”

“Oh, please, don’t let us distract you from saving that has-been’s arse,” Alec commented from his position against the door jamb. “Give it a few years, and he won’t be able to find his way to his front door. M should have retired him years ago.”

“He’s barely a year older than us,” Bond countered, though Q could hear him trying not to laugh. He absently ran a hand up Q’s arm and over his shoulder before he walked back to join Alec. With a little huff, he added, “And it wasn’t that long ago that they wanted _me_ out, if you’ll recall.”

“I’d offer to reduce your ages in the database, just to make you feel better, but sadly there isn’t much to be done when you refuse to wear proper sunblock.”  Q turned back to his laptop, hiding his grin.  He could feel Bond and Alec giving each other equally shocked looks.

“That’s all your fault, Alec,” Bond said. “He’s never this stroppy when we’re alone — except in bed. Then he’s positively feisty.”

Alec looked amusedly at Bond. “Really, James? He can keep up with you? He looks like a stiff breeze could blow him over. Hardly the stuff to be able to keep up with a Double O.”

“More like a cheetah than a lion, yes,” Bond agreed. “But he lives on a diet of pure caffeine and sugar. What do you expect?”

“And you have evidence of this stamina and prowess then, do you?”

“I’d tell you about the time I had to fend off a couple flying high on E at the Lostprophets concert we attended last time Bond was in town,” Q said, smiling at the memory of the _look_ Bond had given him when he’d knocked out the offending loudmouth mouth who called him a fairy.  “But I’m afraid I’m busy, and I kindly need you to fuck off for a few minutes while I keep your friend from getting himself shot.” Stroppy? He’d give them stroppy.

“Sassy, this one! I can see now how he’d give you a run for your money, James.” Alec laughed, not bothering to hide his smirk.

“It’s to a point where I’m going on missions to recover from my downtime,” Bond answered, and though he was grinning, Q heard the slightest tension creep into his voice at that. “Of course, when I’m out of town, he’s dating Moneypenny.”

Q’s fingers paused on the keyboard as he considered an appropriate response.  If Bond were here alone, he’d punch him in the shoulder, remind him Moneypenny’s biology was extremely unappealing, and then remind him that he didn’t expect Bond to stay in London because of him.  But with Alec here, he didn’t quite know what the best response would be.  He settled on sarcastic.  Sarcasm always worked — as long as it didn’t provoke either of the highly-trained assassins at his back.

“I’ve considered giving her up. Quite frankly, she can’t hold her own in a mosh pit, and her alcohol and movie selections are abysmal.  It might take a little convincing, though.”  Q shot Bond his best mischievous grin.  “Up for the task, now that you’re back in town?”

“I’d never deprive dear Eve of your company,” Bond said smoothly — too smoothly. “And we all know she likes to watch. I’m certain she considers your company a pleasant reminder.”

Q tried to cover his blush with a glare at Bond, who seemed entirely unaffected.  “A reminder is all she gets, and even that was your idea, not mine.”

Alec looked between Q and Bond as if trying to work out exactly what had just happened. He turned to look at Bond. “Well, our dear Eve was always an observant one. Good to finally meet you in person, Quartermaster.” He nodded at Q and turned towards the door, “Coming James?”

Q saw Bond give Alec a surprised look. Then he nodded, turning back to smile at Q. “Call me when you’re ready to leave?”

Q nodded.  “Twenty minutes to get 004 on a plane back to London.  Then we can go.  Unless you and Alec want to get some dinner.”

“Have you already got someone waiting for you at your hotel?” Bond asked Alec.

Alec smiled as he opened the door. “You know very well a gentleman never tells, and I am nothing if not a gentleman.”

“Nothing but a lying bastard,” Bond agreed, amused. “Twenty minutes,” he told Q before he followed Alec out of Q’s office.

Q turned his full attention back to to his laptop, only briefly sparing a moment to wonder if Alec expected Bond to go back with him to the hotel room. As far as he was aware, Alec Trevelyan was as straight as they came, but with field agents, one never knew. Besides, he might assume he could take certain liberties with his best friend. And if that were the case, Q resolved to show Alec precisely what he could do when pissed off.

 

~~~

 

Alec walked through the tech cube farm and back to the emergency stairs, trusting Bond would follow closely behind. Q had surprised him, something that was fairly hard to do. He had always thought the Quartermaster to be professional, yes, but bland and with little real personality. It galled him somewhat that he had been proven wrong within a minute of setting foot in Q’s office. He considered himself a much better judge of character than that.

He’d meant what he’d said to Bond, though. He could see why Q would appeal to Bond. The deceptive Quartermaster was a perfect match for Bond’s rebellious nature. And that was some cause for concern, because he was getting the distinct impression that it was the Quartermaster and not any threatened psych eval which was keeping Bond in London.

Walking up the stairs, back to the area the Double O’s had their floater offices, he decided that it might be time to have a word with Q — to remind him that James was a field agent first and foremost, and that he would wither and rot if he couldn’t get properly out in the field.

“If tonight’s distraction isn’t going to keep you up all night, we should meet tomorrow for lunch,” Bond suggested.

“Lunch could work. The Savoy? It’s been ages since I’ve been there. No better place to reacquaint myself with London.”

“Perfect,” Bond agreed, and Alec was admittedly a bit surprised that there was no suggestion of inviting Q to join them.

Alec smiled. “We’ve got some time now. How about I get you the Istanbul files?”

Bond gave him a look that was only partially suspicious — more out of habit than any real reason to suspect Alec. “If that’s your way of ensuring I speak to M tomorrow, I promise, I will. But all right. Let’s see just how much trouble we can cause down there. If things go badly, we can always nip across to Ibiza and lose ourselves in the nightclubs for a week.”

Alec laughed, opening the door at the top of the stairs. “Do you remember that club on the beach... What was it, back in ’05? Oh, the trouble you got into with Mimi. I think of that in dark times, you know. Always makes me laugh.”

“Taiwan,” Bond said, his grin lighting up his eyes. “The one with the name that really didn’t translate. And I proved the next year that it _is_ possible to have sex in a shallow-draft canoe, as long as you’re careful. What’s the security level on the file? Do I need to open a secured office, or will this do?” he asked, stopping at the first of the floater offices.

“I bow to your superior knowledge of water-based activities, 007.” A serious look replaced Alec’s laugh, “A secured office would be better, if you can manage it. Call me paranoid, but ever since HQ was blown up, I’m never sure how secure things really are.”

“And _that_ is why we’ve made it this long,” Bond said, his smile fading a bit. He continued walking down the hall. “I swear, half the children we’re hiring don’t understand a damned thing about security protocols. Q caught one of the junior field agents out of Station N actually photographing a file on his bloody mobile so he could have a copy with him.”

“And he’s still working for us? M must be getting soft,” Alec mused. “So, tell me about this Q of yours. He seems more interesting than I gave him credit for. He must have hidden depths if he’s snagged your attention for more than a single night.”

“You know M — the _old_ M,” Bond said, sadness creeping into his voice, though only Alec — or possibly Q, Alec thought — knew him well enough to detect it. “He’s another of her collected orphans. He’s a survivor.”

Alec glanced over his shoulder, seeing a flicker something in Bond’s face that spoke of a depth of feeling he’d never seen in James before. He decided to drop that line of enquiry for now. Bond was never shy about his conquests, but in this case, there was obviously something he wasn’t comfortable discussing.

“She did rather have a fondness for strays, didn’t she? Look at us, after all.” He nodded his head at the first of the secured offices. “This should do nicely.”

Bond unlocked the door without having to call security for an authorisation code, which meant either he’d been keeping up their old bad habits of spying on the rest of MI6 or he’d simply stolen his boyfriend’s access codes. He pushed the door open and walked into a tiny, cupboard-sized office. “You’ll need to log in to access the files,” he said, pushing up against the wall so Alec had room to enter and sit down, which required closing the door so there was room to slide the chair away from the keyboard-sized desk.

Sitting down at the desk, Alec flicked on the monitor and pulled out the keyboard, “This should only take a minute. I’ll pull the files down for you, then go find some coffee. This room’s barely big enough for one person to think in, let alone two.”

“The fortune tellers down in Intentions won the last football pool, so they’ve got the best coffee machine,” Bond advised, grinning. “Don’t go to the one in Accounting. Rumour has it that 002 sabotaged it to brew only decaf after they botched his pay.”

“So there is some benefit to you lurking around in London, then.” Alec’s tone was teasing. “Thanks for the heads up. I’d hate for either of us to be poisoned by the swill that is decaf.” He pushed away from the desk and stood. “There you go. Get stuck into that. I’ll be back in a few with the elixir of life.”

It took some work to shuffle two grown adults, a chair, and the need to open the door to the hall, but they weren’t trained Double O agents for nothing. Finally, Alec escaped, and Bond went to close the door, saying, “It’s good to have you back, Alec. I’m glad you haven’t managed to get yourself killed.”

“And you, James,” Alec said softly. “It would be a colder world without you.” He gave Bond a brief smile as he headed off down the corridor in the direction of Intentions.

As soon as he was at the lifts, though, he pressed the button for the ground floor, where he’d transfer to the belowground lift back to Q Branch. He probably had twenty minutes before Bond got suspicious and either called or came looking for him. With luck, Bond would assume Alec was chatting up one of the women working night shift.

 

~~~

 

Q grinned as he watched the firewall crumble under his assault.  Like so many things about the tiny ex-Soviet state, the state-controlled networks were almost patchwork in their construction — even the programmer comments were a mess, being a nearly indecipherable mix of Russian and Belarusian.  He hummed as a list of nearly twenty computers reacted to his initial ping, and it didn’t take him long to pinpoint which one controlled the door locks.  He watched as 004 made his way to the back.

Q snickered as the door swung open just as the agent said, “I hope you’ve...”

“Don’t worry, 004.  We’ll have you in and out in no time,” Q responded calmly, opening the next set of doors.  “Second floor, third office to the left.”

The doors behind Q clicked open again, and he frowned in irritation.  He still had ten minutes before Bond was supposed to show up.

“Am I interrupting?” came Alec’s voice from the doorway.

Q hid a sigh; he supposed he should have expected this visit, but had been too busy dealing with 004’s obstinance to prepare.  At least his ten-minute deadline meant Alec didn’t have long to threaten him before Bond came looking.  

“As long as you don’t mind my occasionally ignoring you in favour of dealing with 004, I can spare you some attention.”  Q watched the red dot on his map move to the stairwell. He unlocked it just as the agent slammed into it. Then Q turned and gestured to a chair within his line of sight.  “Would you like to sit?”  He didn’t like having the famously deadly agent at his back. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Alec move towards the chair and take a seat.

“Thank you, and no bother. I’d hate to have something happen to dear old 004.”  The voice was pleasant enough on the surface, but Q could hear a chill lurking below. For a minute, the only other sound was the squeak of Alec’s chair over Q typing. Then Alec cleared his throat. “So, how long _has_ it been since James was last out in the field properly?”

Well, he should have seen that coming.  Q opened another door for 004, then lifted his head to meet Alec’s gaze.  “I suppose it depends on your definition of ‘proper,’” he said carefully.

“A mission longer than a few days that doesn’t involve boardrooms and cushy hotels. A mission where he’s out there working for Queen and Country, stopping the ‘bad guys’ and serving the greater good. None of this swanning around at Langley shit.” Q could hear the passion and accusation in Alec’s voice.

Q watched 004’s marker hover in the control room in Belarus. He flicked on the monitor to his right to watch the progress of the resulting upload.  “He just got back from Korea about five weeks ago.  A right mess, that was.  I suspect M is easing him back into things slowly to make sure there haven’t been any long term negative effects.”  The white text list of files on the black background of his terminal window was running smoothly, but Q pretended it demanded his attention anyway.  “It’s not me keeping him here,” he said quietly.  

Alec huffed out a disparaging laugh, “You seem pretty sure about that, little _Quartermaster_. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. You have him wrapped around your little finger.  He would do almost anything you asked. You must know that keeping him in London will drive him mad.”

“You of all people should know that no one can make James Bond do anything he doesn’t want to do. I have no interest in keeping him London.  He gets twitchy when he’s here too long — frankly, it can be damned annoying when he starts looking for a fight on the Tube just to stop being bored.”

The was complete silence from the direction of the chair, and Q snuck a look over his shoulder, concerned about what the Double O might be planning. He was surprised to see a thoughtful look on Alec’s face.  He opened his mouth as if to say something, but hesitated and closed it again.

“Done,” came 004’s voice from the comms, and Q turned back to see the agent’s tracker moving out of the building.  He scanned the list of files the agent had sent to him, and he was pleased to see nothing missing.

“Nice job, 004.  I’ll close the doors behind you.  Have a safe and pleasant trip back to London.”

The agent snorted and disconnected, and Q started shutting down his workstations, finishing his tasks as he went.  “Honestly, 006.  Even if you don’t believe me, can you imagine that M would tolerate our relationship if it were detrimental to 007?  It’s not as if we’re sneaking around like teenagers.”

“So the office gossip would have me believe,” came Alec’s response, and Q could hear a tinge of humour in it. Alec came around to the front of the desk, catching Q’s eye and holding his gaze. “All right, I do believe you, Q, and I’m going to do something I rarely do. I apologise for doubting that you have James’ best interests at heart. I’ve never seen him be like this about anyone since — Well, it had me worried is all.”

Q frowned. It didn’t take a massive intuitive leap to assume that Alec was talking about Vesper Lynd, the woman for whom he’d tried to resign from MI6.  The woman who had betrayed him as thoroughly as anyone could possibly be betrayed.  Not that Bond himself had said anything about her — and his silence on the subject spoke volumes.  

The comparison stung, even if the worry at the heart of it was valid.  But as much as Q wanted to say ‘Don’t be absurd’ or ‘I’m nothing like her’ or ‘You don’t have to worry about me hurting Bond like that’, he didn’t actually feel the need to justify himself.  “You’re a good friend,” he said instead.  “No apology necessary.”

Alec nodded and a hint of a smile appeared on his face. “All right, Quartermaster. I appreciate you tolerating a cranky, overprotective agent.”

“Cranky and overprotective seem to be a theme with you people,” Q said, grinning as he stuffed the last of his belongings into his bag. Then he straightened to face Alec.  “Commendable self-restraint, actually. I was certain that at some point that this conversation was going to devolve into death threats, with knives or guns coming into play for emphasis,” he said cheerfully.  “However, if it would soothe your ego, feel free to tell Bond that you threatened me thoroughly, and that you’re now convinced that I’m thoroughly terrified of his murderous best friend.”

“Agreed.” Alec moved around the desk, and Q startled as he slung his arm over his shoulder. “So, we’ve got a bit of a walk back to James, shall I tell you some of his more embarrassing escapades?” His grin now had free rein across his face.

Q grimaced and ducked out from the overly-friendly embrace.  “If he wants me to know the details of any of your sordid adventures together, I’m sure he’ll tell me himself.”

A flash of something like respect crossed Alec’s face as he moved to open the door, as if Q had passed a test. Alec nodded and said, “Well then, Q, I think we shall get along very well indeed.”

 

~~~

 

Bond half-turned when he heard someone pressing buttons at the electronic keypad at his back. He reached forward and turned off the monitor — protocol — and got out of the way just as the door opened. “Q,” he said, surprised. Surreptitiously, he checked his watch, and was surprised to see more than forty minutes had passed. “Christ, sorry I’m late. Let me log out.”

Q looked around the room with a hint of distaste.  “I hate these cupboards they call secure offices.”  He shuddered.  “Don’t take it personally, but I’m just going to wait here.”

Bond laughed, turned the monitor back on, and started to log Alec out of the system. “Not all of us warrant huge offices twenty metres below London’s streets. Very secret cult of your department, you know.”

“Intentions are the cultists, not Q Branch.  At least we provide physical, useful artifacts as a result of our blood sacrifices.”

Bond turned back to face Q, waiting for system confirmation, and asked, casually, “Speaking of Intentions, have you seen Alec? Last I heard, he was looking for coffee down in their labyrinth.”

Q smiled, but hesitated to respond.  “Apparently he decided to skip the coffee in favour of making the ‘don’t hurt my friend’ speech.”

Bond nodded, unsurprised. “I take it neither of you is bleeding?” he guessed, though he was more concerned about Alec. Q was absolutely calm, without that sharp, quick edge to his words, which meant that he’d weathered whatever trial Alec had set him to. Behind him, he heard the computer power down, freeing him to leave the room.

“I suspect he knew better than to tangle with me in my own office.  He’s not a fool, your friend.”  Q straightened and stepped back with a smile. Grinning, Bond extricated himself from the chair-desk prison and escaped the secure room. The motion-sensitive lights went out, and he pulled the door closed hard enough to latch it.

Q wrapped his arms around Bond and pressed his face into his neck.  “He’s not expecting you later, is he?  I mean, it’s great if you want to spend time with him while he’s in the same time zone, but I think I’d rather not join the fun.”

It was too much to hope that Q and Alec could be friends, but Bond would settle for a non-aggression pact. He held Q close and said lightly, “Unless Alec is suddenly inviting men to join a threesome with him, then no, I’m positive he’s not expecting me. We’re meeting for lunch tomorrow.” He turned and pressed a kiss to Q’s hair, somewhat apprehensive, and added, “I’m going to talk to M about helping him with this mess of his in Istanbul.”

“About damn time he admitted to needing some help on that op,” Q responded, stepping back with a snarky quirk to his lips.  “Did he actually say ‘I need your help,’ or just offer other incentives instead?”

Guiltily, Bond said, “He’s a Double O. I wouldn’t put it past him to botch it to _force_ me back into the field.” He slid his hands up Q’s back, pausing at the hidden tattoo high on his spine, between his shoulderblades. “The last few months...”

Q stepped back in to offer a gentle, affectionate kiss, hands snaking around Bond’s waist.  He didn’t say anything, merely rested his forehead on Bond’s when the kiss broke, allowing their breaths to mingle.

Slowly, the tense bands around Bond’s chest unlocked. “After the 7/7 bombings, I was in the field for almost a full year. I’ve been home more in the last six months than in the previous three years.”

“It’s important that you take exactly how much time you need between missions to... recuperate,” Q said slowly.  “No more, no less.”

Bond took a deep breath. “I’m not twenty-five anymore,” he admitted hesitantly. “I don’t have anything to prove. Or maybe I’ve just figured out that I could kill myself, running from mission to mission, and there would always be just one more bastard that wants to take us down.”

Q’s arms hugged just a little tighter, breath going a bit shallower.  “That’s definitely not a scenario I’m on board with,” he replied.  “But we both know you’re getting restless.  I saw the way you looked at that punk clown with the boombox on the Tube.  If he had any idea how close he was to death...  And having Alec as backup is a good thing.  You work together well.”

“As long as you’re the one running the op,” Bond murmured, relaxing. “All of your scurrying little minions are even younger and skinnier than you are. Except Danielle.”

“Scurrying little minions?  Honestly, Bond.  They’re highly trained scientists and engineers.”  He leaned back and took Bond’s hand to tug him down the hallway.  “Besides, the only way they can stay fast enough to help you whirling dervishes of destruction they call the Double O’s on mission is to consume as much caffeine and sugar as humanly possible.”

Bond dropped his hand to Q’s arse. There was no need to be discreet; at this hour, even the janitors were home sleeping. “You’re really not upset about Istanbul?”

Q stopped and waited for Bond to face him before pulling him into a deep, passionate kiss.  He shoved his hands into the waistband at the small of Bond’s back, pulling him close enough to feel his heartbeat.  When they finally broke, he leaned back just far enough for Bond to see his grin.  “Well, I knew you were you when I committed to this.  Now, let’s go home so I can give you a proper goodbye.”

 

~~~

 

Alec blinked and looked away from the bank of monitors in Q’s office onto which he’d routed the internal security camera feeds. It was clear that his worries had been unfounded. Equally important, to judge by the relaxed demeanour of his friend, it seemed as if Alec would be getting company on the Istanbul mission after all.

He reached over to kill the power to the computers, gaze lingering on the sight of Bond and Q grinning at each other like idiots. Snapping the power off, he took a deep breath and smiled. "Congratulations, Q. You've done what no one else ever has. You've made him happy."


End file.
